


The Sharpest Thorns

by Eliza_Peggy_Angelica



Series: A Novel of Alexander Hamilton [3]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Historical canon fiction, I love that tag, Internal Conflict, Maria Reynolds deserves better, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Maria Reynolds, Past Abuse, This is a companion fic but you don’t have to have read the main story to understand this, To Whomever is reading this: I hope you have a nice day, stay safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza_Peggy_Angelica/pseuds/Eliza_Peggy_Angelica
Summary: Maria Reynolds and the beginning of an affair that would ruin her.
Relationships: (mentioned) Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds
Series: A Novel of Alexander Hamilton [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850539
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	The Sharpest Thorns

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> WARNING:  
> Referenced past abuse  
> Mildly Dubious Consent

_ June 1791, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania _

There is something so extraordinarily thrilling in continuing to go through with something you know is wrong, yet you cannot stop yourself from doing it anyway.

Of course, as I approached the house of Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton, I didn’t know that. All I knew was that I was utterly  _ terrified. _

James had left. James, the horrible, violent man that I’d foolishly married at fifteen had left to fend for myself. After ruining my life, after loudly wrecking my pathetic excuse of an existence, he’d left quietly, without much fuss.

And so— after I realized that I was alone with my six year old daughter and short on funds— I found myself walking to Alexander Hamilton’s door.

I had heard what people said of him. He was a good man and had often helped people. Perhaps he could spare some good fortune on me.

I knocked on the door, my hands shaking not of my own volition. There was silence, then a young servant woman opened the door.

Her eyes raked over my disheveled appearance, disgust in her dark eyes, and I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

“May I help you?” The servant finally asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at me.

I nodded. “Yes. I am here to see Secretary Hamilton about financial matters?” I shifted on my feet. “I would very much like to speak with him privately.”

The servant looked skeptically at me, and anxiety twisted in my stomach, deep and all consuming. Dear god, what would I do if they didn’t let me in? If I couldn’t speak to Secretary Hamilton?

I’d be left completely destitute, unable to reach my relatives in New York, and I’d be completely on my own with a daughter to raise… 

Breaking me from my rapidly spiraling thoughts, the servant girl stepped aside. “Come to his office. I’ll fetch him.”

I let out an audible breath of relief, my head spinning. Now, all I had to do was obtain his attention.

I was led into his office— nicer and clearly more expensive than anything I’d ever before seen— and the servant girl hurried downstairs.

I felt out of place in such a fine house. In my five year old dress and homemade lace shawl, I looked so out of place.

I wondered what it would be like to live in a house like this.

After a long moment, the door opened from behind me. I turned to look at the man in the doorway— slim, with red hair and almost violet eyes. The infamous Alexander Hamilton, presumably.

“Mr. Hamilton, I presume?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady.

Hamilton nodded, taking a step towards me. I allowed it. “Yes. Now, you know who I am, but I have no idea who you are. Who are you?”

I looked away from Hamilton. His gaze was so  _ intense, _ and I could feel myself quavering under it. “Mrs. Maria Reynolds, sir.” I suddenly thought of James, and why I was here at all. “Although, I suppose it’s Lewis now…”

I bit my lip to push back my tears, James’ words from so long ago ringing in my ears.  _ Whores don’t cry. So don’t cry, Maria. _

“Mrs. Reynolds,” Hamilton said, suddenly a step closer to me. “Are you alright?” He looked so genuinely concerned for me, and I willed away my tears as he continued. “Why have you come to ask for my assistance?”

I nodded. Of course. I wasn’t here to make a fool of myself, I was here because I desperately needed help. “Right. I know you are a man of honor, sir, and I’ve come to ask for your help.” I took a shallow breath in, willing my composure to remain. 

“I’m the daughter of a Mr. Richard Lewis, and my sister, Susannah, is married to Gilbert James Livingston. My husband, James, was in the commissary during the war…” I couldn’t help it, and I let out a pitiful sob, my shoulders shaking. “He has been… cruel towards me, for quite a length of time now.” Hamilton’s breath hitched.

Tears rolled onto my lips. Lord, I was  _ pathetic. _

My tears continued to fall steadily, but I forced myself to continue to tell my sordid tale. “Recently, he’s left me…” Mr. Hamilton retrieved a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me with gentle fingers, “to live with another woman. I… I have relatives in New York, but I don’t have the means to go on.”

I looked into Hamilton’s eyes as he spoke. “Your situation is an interesting one, Mrs. Reynolds. And, I must say, I’m glad that you came to me. I am busy right at this particular moment—” his gaze flitted to the door “—but if you would send me your address, I could bring money to you later?”

I placed my hand over my chest, smiling brightly. He was helping me. Really, truly helping me. And no one had been so kind to me for so long.

“Thank you, sir! Here, I can write my address down, of course.” I wrote down the address, my hands shaking with relief and jubilation.

Hamilton pocketed the address. “I can come by in the evening, if that’s convenient for you?”

I nodded, perhaps a tad  _ too _ enthusiastically. “Anytime that is convenient for you, sir! Truly, I think you.” I turned to leave, running my fingers over the fine silk of the handkerchief still in my hand.

Oh, right, the handkerchief… “Oh, I almost forgot.” I turned around to face Hamilton again. “Here.” I pressed the handkerchief into his hands.

With that, I walked away. As I walked downstairs, leaving the house based on muscle memory alone, I happened to pass by a room that was obviously the parlor. 

Inside, I could see a beautiful woman with long, brown hair and dark eyes, who was sewing. Likely Secretary Hamilton’s wife.

I wondered what it would be like to live in her place for a day, with a husband that loved her.

Later that night, as I was sitting in my lodgings, Susan asleep in the closet-like adjoining room, there was a knock at my door.

I hurried to the door, revealing an obviously hesitant Alexander Hamilton standing on the other side. 

I closed the door behind me once Hamilton walked in, and, when I turned around, Hamilton handed me a wad of money.

My eyes brimmed with tears. Why was he so kind? I didn’t understand. “Thank you, sir,” I whispered, nearly shocked into silence.

Hamilton waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head as if he hadn’t just done the nicest thing possible. “It was my pleasure. Now, I should be getting home.” He gestured to the door.

I froze. He was leaving? I thought of Susan, who had suffered enough at the hand of my brute of a husband, and I felt terror brimming in me.

What if James came back? 

“Wait!” I impulsively cried, taking Hamilton’s hand. “Whatever can I do to repay you for your kindness?”

Hamilton shook his head sadly, but he didn’t retract his hand. “Nonsense. It was my pleasure, truly. Now, I really should be going…” I watched as Hamilton’s eyes dropped to my semi parted lips.

Oh.

“Please, sir, let me repay you for your kindness.” I stepped forward, and mine and Hamilton’s chests were then pressed together.

Hamilton glanced away from me nervously. “Mrs. Reynolds…” I could  _ hear _ how weak he was. 

I bit my lip.  _ Come on now, Maria. What if James comes back? Who would you rather be with? _

I thought of Hamilton’s— as of that moment— unwavering kindness, then I thought of the feeling of James’ hand hitting my cheek and the resounding smack that followed.

Who would I rather contend with? It was an easy answer. I just wanted Hamilton to  _ stay. _ Was that so awful?

“Hush.” I gathered my strength, squeezing Hamilton’s hip. I wondered if he even noticed. “Please, allow me to repay you for your kindness.” 

I pressed my lips against his.

Hamilton did stay that night, but when I awoke in the morning, I was alone.

I shivered in my thin sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! And, if you’ve come from my main work, I’m working on that. Anyways, if you would be so kind as to leave comments and kudos, I’d really appreciate it. Some notes:  
> My main work is: An Imperfect Man. If you’d be so kind as to leave comments and kudos, I’d really appreciate it.  
> Check me on tumblr, if you’d like:  
> @Lessneartothesun  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading, and have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


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